


Wander through the Willows

by Kali_Blue



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Angst, Denial, Friendship, M/M, Nick is in serious denial, Robot/Human Relationships, Slash, Synth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 07:29:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6414544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kali_Blue/pseuds/Kali_Blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick is a brilliant detective, but when it comes to confronting what's happening within his own mind the synth is in major denial. Nate fears losing his partner and friend to the man responsible for tearing his family apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wander through the Willows

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was born for two reasons:
> 
> 1) You can't romance Nick either as a male or female sole survivor which is a real shame - he's one of the most interesting characters in the game and  
> 2) To my utter frustration, that pesky Nick/Kellogg storyline was never really resolved. I really hope it's resolved in further dlc. 
> 
> It's a standalone for the moment but thinking of continuing it in one form or another. Just got to get around to finishing some of my other fics first! haha.

The sound of metal on metal distracted Nick from his note-taking.

The light from the gaudy sign outside, ‘Nick’s Valentines Detective Agency’, was flickering through cracks in the front door. The air was stuffy - nothing new there - a cramped office with a heap of file drawers containing too many case files to count. Two worn-out, paint-peeled desks with too many chairs to fill them. Despite its raggedy, run-down appearance, Nick still liked to call his office a home.

Placing his pen down on his desk and flexing skeletal fingers, Nick focused his gaze on Nate as the man crouched low in the corner of the room. Wearing that ridiculous blue jumpsuit of his and brown hair tousled, the man reached out for the gun pieces lying on the ground in front of him.  He picked up a scope on the left, checking it for damage, before placing it back down on the ground.  Then, so quick Nick couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy, he fitted the parts together until Nate was holding a fully formed rifle.

As if unconsciously aware that Nick's eyes were on him, Nate looked up to meet Nick’s curious amber gaze. He grinned as though he knew what the synth was thinking, ‘jealous?’

Nick sniffed as Nate’s grin grew even wider. He was, but he’d never admit it, ‘I’m handy with a gun. Only skill I need with one is the ability to point and shoot.’  

‘Sure, Nick. Sure.’ Nate teased, placing the gun to the side.

Okay. So Nick may have been _slightly_ jealous. Weapons were Nate’s specialty, but that knowledge hadn’t been learnt from wandering a post-apocalyptic wasteland.

Nick had come to the conclusion over the months that Nate was not as innocent as he’d led everyone to believe. Yes, the man may have had ‘vault-dweller’ stamped across his forehead when he’d first crawled out of those vaults. He was still naive about the world in so many ways. Nate had grown up with robots, but never seen anything like synths. He’d seen disfigured humans before, from his time in the war, but never encountered anything like the long-lived ghouls that roamed the wasteland.

Still. Nate had spent more time as a frozen banana than actually _living_ in those creepy vaults. It’s not like he’d been raised in one of em’.

No. Nate had been on the front-lines, and those eyes of his spoke of someone who’d seen war and killing and death.  He didn’t bring it up all that often, really. Kept it bottled up inside him like so many other wastelanders did.  Nick couldn’t blame him for that, and frankly most people these days were more concerned with living to see another day than dealing with their own psychological trauma.  

That didn’t mean it didn’t emerge now and then.  It came out with the blank look that passed his face when he put a bullet in a raider’s skull. The nightmares that occasionally plagued the man when he woke up screaming, not from dreaming about supermutants or ghouls or yao guai, but from reliving memories of old friends dying in his arms in the trenches.

It wasn’t so different from Nick’s memories as a cop.

 _And don’t forget. He’s as much of a killer as I was._ Nick twitched as a low voice, full of malicious glee, emerged from the deepest depths of his software. It slithered like a snake across the surface of his conscious mind.

‘You’re not the real Kellogg.’ Nick muttered under his breath, ‘keep your opinions to yourself.’

 _Now now._ The voice said, gently mocking, _no need to be rude. Besides, if we’re going to be arguing about who is ‘real’ and who isn’t, well, best not say anything that’s to hypocritical now. I’m as much ‘Kellogg’ as you are ‘Nick’._

‘Nick.’ Nate, to Nicks surprise, had crossed to the other side of the room in the time the synth was talking to himself. He’d dragged an office chair from the other side of the room and sank down so he was on Nicks left. For a second he stared at Nick, hazel eyes unblinking, before scooting over close enough so that the man’s knee was brushing his, before leaning in against Nick's arm. It was a habitual thing with Nate when he was worried, something that was as much to comfort himself as the synth.

‘Just a glitch in the old software.’ Nick responded to the unasked question.

Nate frowned. ‘You’re usually a bit more on the ball.’

‘I’ve have been a bit… distracted lately.’

‘I noticed.'

‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t be. But c’mon Nick, even you have to admit that’s more than just a glitch.’

‘I’m old. Heck, the skin’s been falling off my frame for decades.’

‘Urgh. Yes, Nick, you’re falling apart. Thanks for the mental picture by the way.’

‘It comes with age.’

‘Yeah… but age sure as hell hasn’t made you stupid. You know it’s worse than that.’

At first Nick hesitated. Admitting to himself what was happening was hard. Admitting it to Nate? Well, that was almost impossible.

‘It’s just the remnants of Kellogg’s memories.’

Apart from a brief flash of dismay, quickly stifled, Nate took the news surprisingly well. ‘Except it’s not really remnants anymore, is it? That’s a fully fledged personality in there. And you’re talking to it.’

‘Rubbish. Its memories, that’s all. What did doctor Armani call it? ‘Mnemonic Impressions’.’

‘‘Mnemonic Impressions’ my ass.’ Nate responded tartly, ‘For a man who’s carved out a living as a detective you’re pretty good at ignoring what’s smack dab in front of your face. Besides, I doubt ‘Mnemonic Impressions’ are supposed to have entire conversations their host.’

By then Nick had turned away, biting a lip even as he fought down panic. He knew that asshole was lurking deep down below the surface of the personality that was ‘Nick’. Riddled through his software like maggots through the carcass of a deer.

‘Do you-do you want to talk about it?’ It was a hesitant, but genuine and heartfelt offer. A part of the reason why Nate’s deceased wife had fallen for him in the first place. 

‘Absolutely not,’ the words were out before he could take them back, and Nick immediately regretted it when a look of hurt flashed across the other man’s face. For several seconds both men fell into an uncomfortable silence.

Then, in typical Nate fashion, the man opened his mouth and immediately tried to put the blame on himself.

‘Well… perhaps you’re not ready to discuss what’s going on yet. I get it. But if it’s of any help you can blame me for it, you know. What happened to you was my fault.’ Nate said almost conversationally, voice carefully blank. His body language belied his words, though, and Nate had more or less wrapped his left arm around Nick’s elbow.

_It really is._

_Shut up._ At first Nick tried, gently, to disentangle himself from his partner. When that failed he sighed instead, and tossed Nate a look was incredulous, ‘we’ve had this conversation before. I _volunteered_ to have his memories implanted _,_ remember?’

‘We could have found another way.’

‘We found a valuable clue to the whereabouts of _your son._ ’ Nick pointed out, ‘I don’t think anyone could put a price on that.’

There wasn’t much the man could say to that, but it didn’t stop Nate from looking away this time.

Nick braced himself for what he knew was coming next. Nate could be surprisingly hard on himself when something happened to the people he loved. Even when a friend volunteered to put themselves in danger, chose to move _themselves_ into the line of fire if it meant protecting him. None of that seemed to matter an iota to the man, no matter how much Nick tried to convince him otherwise. Nate drew a breath and seemed to steel himself for something. ‘I wouldn’t blame you ever decide to just… walk away.’

Nick groaned, ‘Nate…’

‘Not at the moment.’ Nate interrupted doggedly, and Nick tried not flinch as the man tightened his grip. ‘We have that nasty little Kellogg problem to take care of first. I meant after we sort all this shit out. And after we’ve managed to extract those memories, and after we’ve saved Shaun. I wouldn’t blame you at all if you were to wash your hands of…’

‘Nate, please. We’ve been through this. Multiple times, actually. I won’t ever abandon you.’

Nate froze. Rather than reassure him, though, Nick saw guilt burrow even deeper in the man’s eyes. Without thinking he lifted a hand and used feather-light fingers to brush the snyth’s cheek.

‘I was afraid you’d say that.’ Nate said sadly.  


End file.
